


Love Comes In At The Eye

by Esteliel



Category: The Fire's Stone - Huff
Genre: M/M, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 20:04:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/pseuds/Esteliel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wine comes in at the mouth and love comes in at the eye; that's all we shall know for truth before we grow old and die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Comes In At The Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Written for cero ate in the Yuletide 2007 Challenge

The celebration had been going on for more than two hours already, and Darvish was growing tired. Not from the music, the dancing and the people, but from the fumes of wine that wafted up from goblets and pitchers all around him.

It had been almost a year since they had returned to Ischia with the Fire's Stone, saving the city from the Lady, the active volcano kept from eruption only through the magic of the stone – and yet even after a year, it took all the strength he had to fight the need for a drink.

Yearningly, he looked at the pitcher of wine standing on the neighboring table, filled to the brim with a light, white vintage. He imagined how it would taste, crisp and clear and faintly fruity...

His fingers trembled and he clenched them around the gaudy silk of his trousers. He had donned a courtier's clothes for the evening, thinking to blend in at this gathering of minor nobles and foreign merchants, but so far, there had been no news or rumors that were not already known to his brother's spies.

It should have been harder to blend in as nothing more than another nobleman's wastrel son, now that he was a hero of the realm instead of a drunkard, but people still seemed to pay more attention to his clothes and flirting than to the stories told about the return of the Stone.

Usually, it pleased him to be able to gather rumors in such an inconspicuous way. It finally gave him a place at court, a way in which to do something to help his father, and his brother the crown prince. So far, though, there had been no results to his listening; and resisting the craving for wine – just a small swallow of it! – was tiring him quickly.

He pushed the plate in front of him away and stood, having made his decision. There was nothing do to here for him... He would just find Aaron and then leave with his thief, retiring to their rooms at the palace.

"What do you mean, that's the Prince? That... _buffoon_?"

Darvish's expression grew stony as he overheard the whispered exclamation from the neighboring table. It should not hurt, not after all this time... But it was so hard not to fall back into old habits!

"They say he saved he city..."

"Anyone can invent such a tale. Just look at him... Another useless good-for-nothing."

Darvish flinched at the whispered exchange. Strange that it should hurt so, to hear this from strangers – but then, that made it even worse. The trembling in his fingers intensified, and he made a step towards a servant bearing a tray of wine-filled goblets.

Fingers closed around his trembling hand, long, slender fingers that were skilled in opening locks and lifting purses. They squeezed his hand once, and he turned around, feeling guilty and grateful alike when he looked at Aaron's calm face.

"I... I wouldn't have," he whispered, feeling wretched with shame because he knew that without Aaron here, he might have done it after all.

"Come," his thief said, tugging on his hand, and Darvish followed with a smile on his face despite the eyes he could feel boring into his back. Let them think what they wanted – he did not care, as long as he had Aaron.

He found himself pulled into an alcove, a curtain of heavy, dark velvet pulled so that suddenly, everything was dark, and then, deft fingers opened the lacing of his trousers as quickly as they usually cut a purse or picked a bracelet.

"Aaron," he gasped in surprise, "what-", and then he found he could not talk at all. Aaron's mouth was hot, and Darvish moaned, no longer caring what people might think or say. His fingers tightly gripped the velvet of the curtain, gasping at the touch of Aaron's tongue, so hot and wicked, teasing him so that he moaned again, helpless in his love and desire for his former thief, his dearest friend and beloved.

It had been a year now since they admitted to their love for each other, and yet, Aaron usually was still reticent in such things. Oh, Darvish had had many lovers more skilled... but there was no reticence in Aaron now. The simple fact that this was his thief, his Aaron, gave the sheer pleasure of feeling his mouth surround him such a keen edge that Darvish trembled like an inexperienced youth, moaning Aaron's name in what was both prayer and plea. It ended far too quickly – one hand still clenched in the curtain, he had to raise the other to his mouth to bite down on it, muffling what would have otherwise been a cry certain to disturb the feast.

For a long moment, Darvish was gasping for air with his eyes closed, filled by nothing but exhilaration, the aftermath of pleasure, and a deep and tender love for the one who had changed his life so completely.

Aaron's nimble fingers quickly set to work to make him look presentable once more, while he was still breathless and unable to think. When Aaron finally stood, Darvish leaned against him and kissed him gently, aroused even more by the smile on his lover's lips than by the taste of his own seed on Aaron's tongue.

“What would you have of me, beloved? Anything you want... It is yours,” he whispered against Aaron's neck, still so weak with pleasure that he was glad to be able to lean on him.

“Let us return to the palace, Dar,”Aaron said softly, although there was need in his eyes as well now.

“To our bed, you mean?” Darvish had recuperated enough to give Aaron a teasing smile, loving how his thief would blush even though moments before, he had knelt before him hidden from the crowd by nothing more than a curtain.

“Anything I want, you said,” Aaron reminded him, smiling as well despite his flushed cheeks, and Darvish laughed and threw his arms around him, the wine completely forgotten now.

He had never been as happy as this before – he had never expected to ever find such joy in his life, and when he pulled the curtain back and strode out of the alcove with Aaron by his side, he only stopped once to claim another tender kiss, no longer caring who watched him and what might be said.


End file.
